Grace Notes
by TheGuardianKnux
Summary: Music is one of the most comforting, and hope providing forms of sound that a human, and nation can hear. From the simplest of lullabies to heart wrenching arias, can music be the an expression that every war torn nation, or person, can use to speak?


**Author's Note: Alright, so, lately for my voice lessons I've been asked to type out a story to match the song or songs I am currently working on so I decided, why not as a treat, upload them on here for everyone to read as a dabbles collection! ^^ The one takes place in late Depression era America with England as a nursemaid and America as a child of two working parents! I'll leave a disclaimer for pairings in each one shot since, I feel like doing that for once instead of leading you all on! :D Plus they're just dabbles, so, why not? XD**

**Pairings: None. ^^' This is just a family, hurt comfort one! ^^**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song, ****"American Lullaby," ****or Hetalia! ^^ I do wish I did though!**

She had been grateful, these past few months, to actually have a job in this Depression era that this country, were she and others had hoped to find jobs in. While most, at the moment, seemed to be unemployed, poor, or living and well, dying on the streets, Alice Kirkland was grateful that she wasn't. Being one of the eldest in her family meant that she was able to immigrate out off the airstrike zone that was the London area back in her home land of Great Britain. The only downside it seemed, was the immanent Depression that the "oh so great", "American Dream," of everybody and technically including her were facing at this time and place.

The American Dream. What a cruel word that seemed to sound like to most, like a far off idea or entitlement that seemed to be just out of reach for mostly everyone, especially immigrants such as herself.

But, there was nothing she, a mere British woman that kept residence at her own job, not even owning a house or renting an apartment of her own. Thankfully, a good job come her way quickly that was situated to her skills in her occupation as a rather skilled nursemaid-

"!"

And here came one of her requirements right now, caring for a wailing child.

Cursing slightly under her breath, the young lady haggardly rushed out of the kitchen were steam and smoke were originating from a stove were she had been _trying_ to cook scones and heat up a bottle of milk before being interrupted by the sounds of a high pitched and almost inhuman in her opinion, wail from down the hallway.

Almost racing, her hooped blue dress with puffed sleeves and a white apron rustling slightly as her long, blonde pony tails on the sides of her head and her jagged, messy bangs waved around her zooming form. Thick brows framed above slightly stunning forest green eyes looked tense as she clenched her jaw while feelings of frustration and exasperation reverberated throughout her.

She had grown attached to the child of Mr. and Mrs. Jones really, she did; but, what she didn't appreciate was when, while trying to get an afternoon tea ready that the formally peacefully sleeping child had decided to wake up and insist on wailing for her attention from his crib.

_Honestly, I had just put him to an afternoon's nap moments ago and I could've sworn I had changed him! He couldn't have soiled his diaper that fast!_

Giving a short puff of air as a form of releasing some exasperation, the Briton gripped the door frame of the room she had been running towards and almost had ran pass and bent over, breathing heavily. After regaining some air, she stiffened and made herself more postured except for the obvious crease in her brows that had taken into effect to display her tense feelings as she made her way into the room.

"Oi! What is it Alfred?" she barked slightly, before cringing a bit after spouting out her sentence, not meaning to sound so _annoyed_ with the poor boy, who couldn't even speak yet or understand what she was saying. Stiffening once again, she gripped her hands together as a slight blush peppered her cheeks, now realizing that fact and that she had tried to talk to an incapable speaker of her natural tongue.

Mentally slapping herself, Alice then realized, once again, that she was just standing in one spot, listening to a young child, a baby to be more precise, cry in his crib with her not actually doing much to stop his wailing. Shaking her head, she made her way over towards the young boy, whose pudgy face it seemed, was scrunched up in discomfort and unhappiness as tears streamed down his now rosy red cheeks. Even his prominent cowlick in his small tuffs of sandy blonde hair seemed to almost be drooping, making Alice's heart ache, (Not that she'd tell anyone she was being soft! She was the daughter of a soldier, not some sort of ninny who felt sympathy over the smallest of issue or sadness!)

But… Looking down at the bawling young child, sympathy started to melt the frosted tint in her eyes and in her heart that had built up over the years, being in a slightly war torn family and having to put up with her slightly wretched brothers and all, as the crying babe reminded her slightly of herself, those many lost years ago that were stuck, firmly anchored to her homeland and not this, "American Dream," she had been forced to find recently…

"WAA-"

Snapping back into attention, another florissant blush peppering her cheeks once more, slender, long sleeved arms almost shot out as the hands attached to said arms wrapped themselves around the only slightly heavy boy and picked him up, her face going tense once more as her mind raced. What on Earth could be wrong with the boy?

Then it hit her. Maybe something wasn't wrong so much as it was, as if something was missing…..

"Like a touch from-from a Mother….."

_Idiot, _She quickly shot at herself, making her brows crease in annoyance; _you're not the boy's Mum! You simply a nursemaid!_

But was she now? Come to think of it, when _were_ the boy's wealthy parents ever home? She couldn't ever recall a day when she had seen the pair home together and eating with their beautiful son together as a family, like those in the magazines she had seen on newsstands when she went out to the Grocer and bought groceries for the family in exchange for the boarding she received in return.

Almost as if an instinct a worried Mother would do for a child, she brought the young one closer to her chest and adjusted the young boy so that his head was in the crook of her neck. Realizing this, she fought the urge to blush at how soft she was acting till she noticed how quickly he had quieted down, his scrunched up face relaxing as wide, curious azure eyes opened up, letting the young boy look around the room and gaze at anything interesting till said eyes landed on the person holding him.

Feeling the young boy relax, Alice herself did as well, letting her tense facial expressions die to reveal a soft, slightly loving gaze….

And then, something stirred inside her…. A song it felt, one that she had heard on the radio one day while embroidering a blanket….. For Alfred she recalled, such a thought tickling the corners of her mouth till they eventually melted into a small, knowing smile. Clearing her throat with a little, "hmmm," the young woman turned her gaze towards the window shade covered window as she let her mind wander slightly…. To a distant place, and began to sing softly, her voice clear and crisp:

_Hush-a-bye you sweet little baby and don't you cry anymore,_

_Daddy has gone to his stockbroker's office a keeping the wolf from the door…_

Indeed Mr. Jones had, which reminded Alice why the man was always away, day after day, late night after night trying to make ends meet….. Leaving their son slightly unattended it seemed…..

_Nursie will raise the window shade high, _

_So you can see the cars whizzing by…._

And just like in the song, Alice made her way over towards the window, freeing one hand to tug the cord and raise up the window shade so that the infant on her shoulder could look out and see the cars racing below them on the city street cooked under the afternoon sun. Gazing down at the infant, who was looking out of the window curiously, his wide eyes darting around, her gaze became sympathetic once more as a tinge of sadness laced her notes next;

_Home in a hurry each Daddy must fly:_

_To a baby….. Like you._

Turning away from the window, a slightly pained expression on her face, the young Briton quietly asked herself why she would be feeling this way as she hugged the child closer out of habit slightly, and made her way over towards his crib while continuing to sing;

_Hush-a-bye you sweet little baby and close those pretty blue eyes._

_Mother has gone to her weekly bridge party to; get her wee baby the prize…._

Placing the now silent, and as she guessed, sleepy infant in his crib, Alice made the connection that Mrs. Jones seemed gone most of the time as well, off partying with her lot and trying to buy her way towards the top it seemed, making Alice frown slightly as she gazed at the drowsy infant who was laying down now, his brilliant blue eyes hidden under closed lids as he breathed silently….

_Nursie will turn the radio on,_

_So you can hear a sleepy-time song._

_Sung by a lady whose poor heart must long:_

Her voice vibrating and threatening to crack on that last part, her eyes becoming slightly misty, Alice looked away slightly, only for her eyes to track themselves back to the now sleeping infant who was breathing rhythmically as Alice breathed quickly, wanting to finish the last of the song before exiting the room silently to finish her cooking and to ponder her thoughts privately as her heart thudded like a grandfather clock chime…

_For a baby… Like you… _

And with that, the young woman finished the song, wiping her misty green eyes and turning around, exiting the room with the song slightly echoing in her mind, making her wonder if what she sang was closer to life than she thought… More closer to a reality of the American Dream that so many were promised, only to not be informed of the seemingly dire side effect that comes with it.

**Author's Note: Poor Meri-Kun! ;A; I'm sure his parents mean well, even if they're not always there for the little guy! So, how's that for a kick off to this slightly infrequent dabbles collection? I hope you guys enjoy it! ^^**


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